


The Contest

by rizlowwritessortof



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:50:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9335843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizlowwritessortof/pseuds/rizlowwritessortof
Summary: Dean x reader one shot - Dean loves to give you a hard time, and one night he pushes things a little too far… Flashback in italics





	

You sit in the booth, Dean’s arm draped over your shoulder as you lean into his chest, your legs up on the seat, beer in hand. Sam slides back into the seat across from you, answering your smile with one of his own.

It’s a good night, things have evened out for a bit, and you’re all feeling relaxed, almost contented. Sam’s new ‘friend’ had just left, saying she had to work the next day. You’re enjoying hanging with the boys, drinking a few beers. You watch the college kids, early twenties at the most, playing the same games you all used to play, trying to hook up, make some kind of connection. 

You let out a happy sigh, looking up at Dean as he watches them, too, a kind of distant smile on his face. 

“What?” you ask, and he looks down at you, his smile turning a little sheepish. 

“I was just remembering the night… well, the night you opened my eyes.” You blush a little, ducking your head in a vain attempt to hide the amusement curving your lips, and he raises an eyebrow at you, letting loose with a stunning grin. You bump him in the belly with your elbow, and Sam stares at you with a curious gleam in his eye. 

“Okay, now I want to hear this story.” 

You blush a shade darker, and Dean looks at you, asking without asking. “Oh, go ahead. You’re dying to tell it.” 

“Okay, Sammy, picture back a few years, a few months after we met Y/N…” You listen as Dean talks, letting your memories wash over you. 

\------------------------------

_You gesture at the bartender, and Dean gives a derisive little hoot. “Whoa, slow down there. I mean, you’re kinda past your two-drink limit, aren’t you?”_

“ _Who died and made you the alcohol police? I can drink if I want to!” You stick your tongue out at him, and he laughs again._

“ _Sweetheart, I’ve never seen you have more than two drinks. I mean, walking on the wild side for you is staying late at the library. You make Sammy look like a party animal. Just sayin’.”_

“ _Screw you, Winchester! You don’t know me.” You take a big swallow of your rum and coke, rolling your eyes. “Just 'cuz I’m not a bar bunny who hangs all over every full-of-himself swaggering asshole, begging for attention, doesn’t mean I never let my hair down.”_

“ _That brings up a good point. I’ve never even seen you with your hair down. Always got it tied back, or in a braid. I mean, not that you don’t look good, but you’re about a million miles from being a wild child. I doubt if you’ve really ever just let yourself go and have a good time. You’d rather hide in a room and do research, not get out and really live it up.”_

_The bar isn’t huge, but there’s a band, and they’re just starting to leave the stage for a break. The bar owner steps up to the mic and bellows out a half-drunk cheer, and you look his way, annoyed. “God, he’s loud.”_

“ _See? Marian the librarian, out on the town, stick firmly up her ass. That’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”_

“ _Go fuck yourself, Dean,” you snark back, which just makes him grin. You both watch as the college boys begin to gather, and several of the girls move to the sides of the stage. Your curiosity is soon satisfied when the man behind the mic announces the Friday night wet t-shirt contest, and you clamp your jaw together as Dean chuckles, bending to speak softly right next to your ear._

“ _See, this is what I mean. You’d never let go enough to do something like that.”_

_You freeze for a moment, letting your anger settle into determination. Then you turn to him, unbuttoning your overshirt, peeling it off and handing it to him. “Hold this for me, would you?” He looks stunned, his jaw hanging open, and you manage, somehow, not to smile. You turn, almost able to feel his eyes burning holes through your tight, fitted t-shirt as you walk towards the stage, hips swaying, pulling the tie from your hair and letting it swing free._

_You step up onto the stage, fully aware of the resentful glances from some of the girls. I mean, let’s face it – you’ve got a few years on them, and they’re thinking you’ve got no business up here. But - in for a penny, in for a pound. You want to make Dean eat his words. You ignore a few lewd comments from the boys gathered in front of the stage, excited to see someone new, but you shut them all out, block out everything but Dean. You lock your eyes on him as you follow suit with the rest of the girls, pulling your t-shirt free from your jeans, then reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra. He’s staring back at you, his lips parted, his gaze somewhere between shocked and lecherous, and you see him swear softly to himself as you do that magic trick every woman knows and pull the purple lace from under your shirt, dropping it to the floor._

_You focus on watching him watching you, bracing yourself as the girls get doused with icy water, one at a time. You hold your breath as the deluge comes your way, closing your eyes for a second before opening them to Dean’s heated stare, his eyes moving over you, and you swear you can almost feel it. You hear the boys’ crude comments as the announcer moves along the line, holding a hand over each girl’s head and judging by applause who’s still in the running. It comes down to you and one other girl, and you follow her lead, reaching back to lift your hair from your neck, arching your back just a little, and you’re pleased to see out of the corner of your eye that Dean’s jaw is still on the floor._

_You almost win, too, the little cheerleader type with a belly ring barely edging you out, but you still get a coupon for a free drink out of the deal, not to mention the immense satisfaction of giving Dean a shock. You bend to pick up your bra, but a tall, blond jock quickly grabs it and holds it out to you. “You’re fantasic,” he says, drunkenly enthusiastic, but before you can take it, the bra is snatched from his grip._

“ _Sorry, junior – she’s with me.” Junior looks angry at first, but when he turns to face Dean, he backs down like a whipped pup._

“ _Oh, yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean anything by it,” he mumbles, heading back towards his laughing friends._

_Dean’s hand closes around your wrist, and then he’s pulling you through the bar, your purple bra in his hand, glaring at anyone who stands in his way. You stumble along behind him, too stunned for words, until he bursts through the door and into the parking lot, the cool air and your wet shirt shocking you from your daze. You yank your arm away from him, furious. “What the hell, Dean?”_

“ _Why the hell did you do that?” he shouts, and you smile, tight and angry._

“ _I felt like letting my hair down, getting the stick out of my ass. I mean, I’m no fun, right? I just wanted to live it up.” Your words are sharp as a razor, and what really pisses you off is that you’re shaking._

_Dean opens his mouth once, twice, finally managing words the third time. “You didn’t need to… I was an asshole, you didn’t have to do that to prove…”_

“ _I don’t have to prove anything to you, you egotistical prick! I do what I want.” You turn to walk away, but he grabs your arm and yanks you up against his chest, his arm circling your waist to keep you from escaping._

“ _All those fucking little college boys were in there drooling over you. I wanted to…” He stops, breathing hard, his nostrils flaring. “I didn’t want them looking at you. You’re better than that. And I don’t want anyone looking at you, not like that.” He’s staring down at you, his eyes glittering in the dim light. He draws closer, his lips a breath away from yours. “Not unless it’s me,” he whispers, then pulls you even harder against him as he crushes his lips to yours._

_For a split second you feel it, the power of it all, too long pent up and dangerous to release, but you don’t care. If this is how you end, so be it. You stand in the parking lot of a seedy bar, pressed close together, desperately devouring each other until Dean finally pulls away, panting. “Motel…” he manages, and you nod. You rush towards the car, climbing in and pulling the doors shut before coming together again, your longing for each other magnetic, almost irresistible._

“ _Sam?” you ask as Dean resolutely pulls away from you and starts the car._

“ _We’ll get another room,” he manages to answer, then sets his eyes on the road and drives, silence between you until he pulls up in front of the motel office. “I’ll be right back,” he says, his gaze clinging to you, and you nod._

_When you finally - even though it’s only minutes, it seems like forever - get to the room, Dean leads you inside and closes the door. He locks it and then turns to lean against it for a moment, biting at his lip._

“ _What?” you ask, a tiny voice beginning to whisper that he’s having second thoughts, he doesn’t really want you._

“ _Look, I just don’t want you to think…” he’s stumbling over his words, and you feel your defenses begin to build._

“ _I know. Just one night, no big deal, right? Heat of the moment.” You turn away to hide the hurt in your eyes, but he’s right behind you, taking your shoulders, turning you back to face him with the tears shining in your eyes._

“ _No, that’s not what I was going to say.” His expression is troubled, and he brings a hand up to gently cup your cheek. “I don’t want you to think that this is all because of… what happened tonight. I’ve been wanting this for a while now. I just – I guess it shook me up, how pissed off I was that those fucking dweebs were staring at you, fucking getting hard over you, and I couldn’t…” He leans in, rests his forehead against yours. “I didn’t want to share.”_

_Your knees wobble a little at his words, and his arm slips around your waist. You watch as his eyes close and he leans down, and then you close yours as he nibbles at your lips. It’s sweet, and hot, and by the time he raises his head again, you feel a little dizzy. “Dean… Can we…?”_

_He doesn’t speak, just takes your hand and pulls you towards the bed, sitting you down and sinking to the floor between your knees. He helps you pull off your boots and socks, then runs his hands up the back of your calves, giving a gentle squeeze. Then he’s holding your waist, leaning towards you, his lips fitting perfectly to yours, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt and caressing, stroking._

“ _You’re cold.”_

_You shiver for an entirely different reason. “Well, I’m kind of – wet.”_

_He smirks, and you blush, glad for the poor lighting. “Insert dirty joke here.” He takes hold of the damp, clammy fabric of your shirt and looks into your eyes. “Can I?”_

\----------

_Much, much later, you lay in his arms, sleepy and sated. He drops a soft kiss on your temple, tightening his arms around you just a little more, and you sigh, content to stay there indefinitely._

_You’re hesitant to break the silence, but the words want out. “You know, I’ve wanted this for a while, too. I just…” You trail off, and he moves his head on the pillow so he can turn to look at you._

“ _What?”_

“ _I always felt like I was some kind of joke to you. The nerd girl, someone a guy like you would never_ _think twice about_ _. Just a friend that trades insults with you, punches you in the shoulder when you piss her off.”_

_He stares at you, his expression naked and unguarded, the usual swagger gone. “You’ve never been a joke to me. I just thought… I felt like you were kind of above my pay grade, you know?_ _Smart, quiet, kind of serious…_ _Giving you grief, at least I didn’t get shot down.”_

_You turn to your side, facing him, reaching for his face, and his eyes close as you touch him. “_ _And I never thought a guy like you would ever pay any attention to me. W_ _hatever this is, wherever it goes, let’s_ _just always be_ _honest with each other_ _from now on_ _.”_

_He slips a hand beneath your hair, cradling the back of your neck as he moves closer. “Promise.”_

_\------------------------------_

Sam’s laughter brings you back to the present. “Wow, I never would have guessed you’d go that far to shut him up. Well done.”

“Yeah, well… maybe not my proudest moment, but I’d do it all over again.” You tip your head back to look up at him, and he kisses you in spite of the awkward angle. 

“Yeah?” 

You smile up at him. “Oh, yeah.” 

“Well, I still say you shoulda won.” Sam laughs as you blush again, and Dean raises a hand for another round as you settle back against his chest. 

“I’m pretty sure I did.”


End file.
